Click here to read about the first one.
I've mentioned before that I am a bit of a genealogy buff in all my spare time (ha!). I recently got back on Ancestry.com after a five-year hiatus and man--the stuff you can find there is just seriously cool. Of course, assuming you are into family history. Way back when, I did some digging on both sides of my family, and discovered that part of my paternal grandmother's family arrived in the Massachusetts Colony from England in the 1630s. Not the Mayflower by any means, but pretty darn soon afterward. If I wanted to join the DAR, I'd have ample qualification!
At any rate, while working on a related family branch, I had previously run into a roadblock. One particular woman seemed to have one of two different birth dates and one of two different death dates (in various combinations) and several different sets of husbands and children, depending on where you looked. It was making me nuts. I finally figured out yesterday that I was looking at a wife and a sister-in-law, who were born and died within a year or two of each other in the same area. Both were named Eunice, of all things (yes, this was a long time ago; apparently this was a common name back then from what I'm seeing) and the one's married name was the same as the other's maiden name. Since some genealogy sites use a woman's maiden name and some her married surname, I can easily see how the two sets of records got muddled on the genealogy websites, especially since we are talking about transcriptions of handwritten records from the mid-18th century.
Anyway, that was my achievement for the weekend (besides running a basketball practice with much less prep time than would have been ideal.) Not meaningful to anyone but myself, most likely, but it was very cool to have finally figured out the puzzle!
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Not Much Of A Warning
I was already out of sorts when I went to bed around midnight last night. Just before I turned out the light, I got an e-mail from the head coach of Thing Two's basketball team, letting me know that he would not be able to come to practice today because his son was ill (meaning that I, as the assistant coach, would have to run the practice.)
This practice starts at 9:20. I am also an assistant coach for The Girl's team, which practices from 8:15-9:15 in the same gym. Since we leave the house at 8, this did not leave a lot of time for figuring out a plan for Thing Two's team practice. And as a newer coach, I don't have much experience from which to draw, so I spent the better part of 45 minutes looking at sample practice plans on the Web starting at 3AM when I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep!
Practice ended up going fine, but that's just not a good way to start a Saturday morning.
This practice starts at 9:20. I am also an assistant coach for The Girl's team, which practices from 8:15-9:15 in the same gym. Since we leave the house at 8, this did not leave a lot of time for figuring out a plan for Thing Two's team practice. And as a newer coach, I don't have much experience from which to draw, so I spent the better part of 45 minutes looking at sample practice plans on the Web starting at 3AM when I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep!
Practice ended up going fine, but that's just not a good way to start a Saturday morning.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Mental Health Day
Realized this morning that the only reason I needed to leave my house during school hours was to go to my taekwondo class (the boys take a school bus and a friend brought The Girl to school today.) Since I was the stupid ass who wore a different knee brace to class yesterday after two weeks off and tweaked my knee, I decided to just stay home. I'll give my knee another day to feel better before I have to coach basketball on it for three hours tomorrow morning, and I am in desperate need of a day off anyway.
No errands or running around (at least until the kids get home.) Some laundry, maybe some putting-away of Christmas decorations. But then I am going to sit down and figure out the Family Tree Maker genealogy program I got for Christmas, since I am the only one of my generation on either side who gives a crap about family history and I like it a lot. For me, this is fun.
Putting myself first today, which doesn't often happen. I finally remembered to start a medication that should help my perpetually clogged sinuses. I made a doc appt for next week, so I can figure out once and for all what the hell I did to my right shoulder while I was learning how to do forward rolls and came down on it wrong the one time months ago. Just stuff that I hadn't quite gotten around to, that I finally made a point of doing this morning.
Selfish, maybe. But if Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. And that's the truth. Mama's filling her tank today.
No errands or running around (at least until the kids get home.) Some laundry, maybe some putting-away of Christmas decorations. But then I am going to sit down and figure out the Family Tree Maker genealogy program I got for Christmas, since I am the only one of my generation on either side who gives a crap about family history and I like it a lot. For me, this is fun.
Putting myself first today, which doesn't often happen. I finally remembered to start a medication that should help my perpetually clogged sinuses. I made a doc appt for next week, so I can figure out once and for all what the hell I did to my right shoulder while I was learning how to do forward rolls and came down on it wrong the one time months ago. Just stuff that I hadn't quite gotten around to, that I finally made a point of doing this morning.
Selfish, maybe. But if Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. And that's the truth. Mama's filling her tank today.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Crazy Mother
I've often wondered if an unusual number of mothers are completely batshit crazy, or if it's just that people who do have crazy mothers choose me as a friend disproportionately for some reason. (And if the latter, God only knows what that says about me.) I've heard some wild stories. Got another one this morning...a gym friend regaled me with horror stories from the holiday visit from hell with her parents. Her dad is apparently reasonably normal, but an enabler. To me, it sounds like her mother is totally cuckoo for cocoa puffs...a narcissistic, drama queeny, attention-seeker to the nth degree with a potty mouth, a foul disposition and a total lack of social awareness and appropriate behavior around small children! Ye gods.
And my friend is not like that at all. She is mildly high-maintenance, but a genuinely good human being. She told me today that her mom was like that the whole time she was growing up--not sure how she managed to avoid massive therapy and dependence on psychiatric meds. Apparently she was an anxiety-ridden mess by the time she finished high school, anyway. Makes sense that she married the ultimate in laid-back California guys and got the hell out!
At any rate, every time I run into one of these stories, I call my own mother and thank her for being normal! Guess I owe her a phone call.
And my friend is not like that at all. She is mildly high-maintenance, but a genuinely good human being. She told me today that her mom was like that the whole time she was growing up--not sure how she managed to avoid massive therapy and dependence on psychiatric meds. Apparently she was an anxiety-ridden mess by the time she finished high school, anyway. Makes sense that she married the ultimate in laid-back California guys and got the hell out!
At any rate, every time I run into one of these stories, I call my own mother and thank her for being normal! Guess I owe her a phone call.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Those Little Wenches Had Better Not Break My Son's Heart
It's finally happened.
My first baby, my socially late-blooming older son, came home from school today talking about girls. Girls! He never has before, at least not in this context. I know it's about time...I distinctly remember having my first crush when I was right around his age, way back before the Earth cooled, but I'm just not ready to deal with boy-girl stuff with my kids yet. Ugh.
The only redeeming feature is that, when I casually asked if there were any young ladies of particular interest, he mentioned two names that would suggest that he has good taste, at least--both are smart, beautiful and athletic, and one (the daughter of a very dear friend) is also as kind and thoughtful as they come. I don't know the other as well. My friend has two girls the same ages as my boys, and we've been joking for years that we don't care who marries whom as long as we end up in-laws when all is said and done! Fortunately, we've had the sense to not mention that within earshot of the four of them, or innate perversity would dictate that they would choose ANYONE else.
Whomever he picks had damned well better be nice to him, and that's all I have to say. Mama Bear has spoken.
My first baby, my socially late-blooming older son, came home from school today talking about girls. Girls! He never has before, at least not in this context. I know it's about time...I distinctly remember having my first crush when I was right around his age, way back before the Earth cooled, but I'm just not ready to deal with boy-girl stuff with my kids yet. Ugh.
The only redeeming feature is that, when I casually asked if there were any young ladies of particular interest, he mentioned two names that would suggest that he has good taste, at least--both are smart, beautiful and athletic, and one (the daughter of a very dear friend) is also as kind and thoughtful as they come. I don't know the other as well. My friend has two girls the same ages as my boys, and we've been joking for years that we don't care who marries whom as long as we end up in-laws when all is said and done! Fortunately, we've had the sense to not mention that within earshot of the four of them, or innate perversity would dictate that they would choose ANYONE else.
Whomever he picks had damned well better be nice to him, and that's all I have to say. Mama Bear has spoken.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Tradition! Tradition!
"Without our traditions, our lives would be as shaky as... as... as a fiddler on the roof!"
New Year's Eve marks a peaceful end to the craziness of the holiday season in our home. Himself and I have not gone out to celebrate since the year Thing One was born, when we moved to our current house in the sticks...the roads are dark and winding and full of deer and being out on them after midnight with a bunch of drunk yahoos is asking for trouble!
The replacement tradition began simply: every year, we made a special dinner for two. When the children were really tiny, we would have to wait to begin cooking until they were in bed, since they were such a handful. When they got a bit older, we could cook and eat with them awake, but we would feed them their kid-friendly dinner first and then attempt to eat our special one with chaos swirling around us...crawling babies, boys pushing toy trucks around the table, and always, always, somebody wanting to sit on Mommy's lap. An inevitable stage in the process, and one I was thinking about last night as I looked around the dinner table. We had cooked only one meal--filets mignon, mashed potatoes, and sauteed green beans--and we were all eating it together. With the good china and fancy wineglasses for the adults and real conversation and I was so proud, so proud of these little people who are so rapidly becoming big.
Somewhere, back in the dinner-for-two-only early years, my in-laws gave my husband a Bill Cosby DVD for Christmas. "Himself" (how appropriate), one of the funniest monologues I've ever seen. A huge chunk of it is about parenting and children, and it has some really good lines.
"Parents are not interested in justice, they're interested in peace and quiet!"
"It was because of my father that from the ages of seven to fifteen, I thought that my name was Jesus Christ and my brother, Russell, thought that his name was Dammit. "Dammit, will you stop all that noise?" And, "Jesus Christ, sit down!" One day, I'm out playing in the rain, and my father yelled, "Dammit, will you get back in here!" I said, "Dad, I'm Jesus Christ!"
"I am not the boss of my house. I don't know how I lost it. I don't know where I lost it. I don't think I ever had it. But I've seen the boss's job... and I don't want it."
"My wife and I were intellectuals before we had children. We were very, very bright people. My wife graduated from the University of Maryland, child psychology major with a B-plus average, which means that if you ask her a question about a child's behavior, she will give you at least an 85 answer. I, from Temple University, physical education major with a child psychology minor, which means that if you ask me a question about a child's behavior, I will tell you to tell the child to take a lap."
"[Talking about his first child] My mother looked at it and said, "Oh, how precious." I don't know why she said it. Well, I didn't know then. I know now, because my mother put a curse on me. A long time ago, I remember when I was a child what she said, and I later found out that mothers, all mothers, put a curse on their children. They say, "I hope, when you get married, you have some children who act exactly the same way that you act." And this curse works! I mean, it started with that child! My wife and I have not been intellectuals since."
When we first started watching it, the kids were so small that we didn't fully appreciate the truth behind the humor--the older they've gotten, the more we relate. That year he received it, we threw it into the DVD player on a whim after we had finished our New Year's Eve dinner and put the kids to bed, laughed like a pair of fools through the whole thing, and a new NYE tradition was born.
The next year, as we were sitting on the sofa next to the Christmas tree and watching that DVD, it occurred to me that it might be a good time to take down the tree...the kids were still so small that they couldn't be trusted around loose ornaments or hooks, so it had to be an adult-only activity. And another tradition was added...a special dinner, the movie, and then taking down the Christmas tree became the order of the night. Even now that the kids are old enough to help, or at least not actively hinder. And throughout, we sip good champagne from the flutes we used at our wedding--no point in those gathering dust.
After the movie, we switch to network TV and watch the bands play and the ball drop, toast the New Year, and go to bed. Not fancy or loud or over-the-top, but it works for us; it is enough of a ritual that it officially marks the end of one year and the beginning of the next.
Welcome, 2013.
New Year's Eve marks a peaceful end to the craziness of the holiday season in our home. Himself and I have not gone out to celebrate since the year Thing One was born, when we moved to our current house in the sticks...the roads are dark and winding and full of deer and being out on them after midnight with a bunch of drunk yahoos is asking for trouble!
The replacement tradition began simply: every year, we made a special dinner for two. When the children were really tiny, we would have to wait to begin cooking until they were in bed, since they were such a handful. When they got a bit older, we could cook and eat with them awake, but we would feed them their kid-friendly dinner first and then attempt to eat our special one with chaos swirling around us...crawling babies, boys pushing toy trucks around the table, and always, always, somebody wanting to sit on Mommy's lap. An inevitable stage in the process, and one I was thinking about last night as I looked around the dinner table. We had cooked only one meal--filets mignon, mashed potatoes, and sauteed green beans--and we were all eating it together. With the good china and fancy wineglasses for the adults and real conversation and I was so proud, so proud of these little people who are so rapidly becoming big.
Somewhere, back in the dinner-for-two-only early years, my in-laws gave my husband a Bill Cosby DVD for Christmas. "Himself" (how appropriate), one of the funniest monologues I've ever seen. A huge chunk of it is about parenting and children, and it has some really good lines.
"Parents are not interested in justice, they're interested in peace and quiet!"
"It was because of my father that from the ages of seven to fifteen, I thought that my name was Jesus Christ and my brother, Russell, thought that his name was Dammit. "Dammit, will you stop all that noise?" And, "Jesus Christ, sit down!" One day, I'm out playing in the rain, and my father yelled, "Dammit, will you get back in here!" I said, "Dad, I'm Jesus Christ!"
"I am not the boss of my house. I don't know how I lost it. I don't know where I lost it. I don't think I ever had it. But I've seen the boss's job... and I don't want it."
"My wife and I were intellectuals before we had children. We were very, very bright people. My wife graduated from the University of Maryland, child psychology major with a B-plus average, which means that if you ask her a question about a child's behavior, she will give you at least an 85 answer. I, from Temple University, physical education major with a child psychology minor, which means that if you ask me a question about a child's behavior, I will tell you to tell the child to take a lap."
"[Talking about his first child] My mother looked at it and said, "Oh, how precious." I don't know why she said it. Well, I didn't know then. I know now, because my mother put a curse on me. A long time ago, I remember when I was a child what she said, and I later found out that mothers, all mothers, put a curse on their children. They say, "I hope, when you get married, you have some children who act exactly the same way that you act." And this curse works! I mean, it started with that child! My wife and I have not been intellectuals since."
When we first started watching it, the kids were so small that we didn't fully appreciate the truth behind the humor--the older they've gotten, the more we relate. That year he received it, we threw it into the DVD player on a whim after we had finished our New Year's Eve dinner and put the kids to bed, laughed like a pair of fools through the whole thing, and a new NYE tradition was born.
The next year, as we were sitting on the sofa next to the Christmas tree and watching that DVD, it occurred to me that it might be a good time to take down the tree...the kids were still so small that they couldn't be trusted around loose ornaments or hooks, so it had to be an adult-only activity. And another tradition was added...a special dinner, the movie, and then taking down the Christmas tree became the order of the night. Even now that the kids are old enough to help, or at least not actively hinder. And throughout, we sip good champagne from the flutes we used at our wedding--no point in those gathering dust.
After the movie, we switch to network TV and watch the bands play and the ball drop, toast the New Year, and go to bed. Not fancy or loud or over-the-top, but it works for us; it is enough of a ritual that it officially marks the end of one year and the beginning of the next.
Welcome, 2013.
Welcome To 2013, Calvin-Style
I love Calvin and Hobbes.
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Even if the kid is wise beyond his years.
Here's to a future that IS better...
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Even if the kid is wise beyond his years.
Here's to a future that IS better...
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That expression always makes me think of either Marvin the Martian or Wile E. Coyote--two of my all-time favorite cartoon characters. T...
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These days, a lot of what happens in my life relates to my kids, and as they get older I am less comfortable sharing their stories. I will ...
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Too funny...had to share. #6 is my favorite! 1. Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear the...
